Love, Blood & Murder
by Miss Silver Bubbles
Summary: AU: A world class genius is recruited into the police force as a detective, but with the personality of a mad man, will the detective's new 'helper' be able to keep the detective in place. "Everything is a puzzle, my friend. Some are just harder to crack."#5 RXR


The gun felt warm and natural in her hands, the sound from the last shot still rung in the shooters ears. Moving their hips on an angle and placing a second arm on the gun for support and accuracy. The shooter looked ahead at the picture before them and aimed for the space between the eyes. There was a moment of complete silence before the little house had another hole in the wall and sound bouncing of the walls.

The shooter coughed a bit and waved their hand, attempting to swat the dust away. The phone rang and the shooter went and picked it up.

"Hello? How may I help you, sir?"

"Will you please stop that racket, its bloody 3AM and you've woken my children. I don't know what's happening but you better stop," yelled a rough voice.

"Judging by the depth of your voice you're fifty, right? You smoke; you can hear it. Wait, no you haven't smoked in...Two weeks that means you're trying to quit, for your wife, am I correct?" The man couldn't say anything as shock took over him, how they knew so much from just hearing his voice. "That means you must be James Parlor, so you live down the street. Hmm down the street, I didn't expect it to be that loud. I am truly sorry about that, say hi to your children for me," concluded the shooter.

"H-h-how did you...?" Said James, shaken.

"Sorry, must dash. I have an appointment, can't miss that." Said the shooter jokingly, and hung up.

The shooter stared at the picture they had recently been blowing up with bullets; each time was a perfect shot between the eyes. The picture was of a woman with long brunette hair and caramel eyes.

Turning their head away from the target, the shooter grabbed their coat and headed out the door locking it behind them. The person walked down the road, trying to get the attention of a taxi, which they eventually succeeded. They hoped into the yellow cab and told the driver the whereabouts of their destination.

"Ah, if it isn't 'Holmes the Second', heard about your last case, the psychopath who would torture the girls before murdering them." The cabbie shivered, remembering the pictures in the papers.

The detective was annoyed at the fact that the cabbie called them 'Holmes the Second', the police department came up with the 'Sherlock jr.' And 'Holmes the Second', then the press managed to hear it and it became an official name for the shooter.

"You know very well, like everyone else in the papers, I hate being called that."

"Ah, sorry sorry, forgot." The cabbie said with a wink in the mirror.

"So, how's your family? How's work treating you?"

The cabbie stiffened, "The wife's happy, I got two little kids you know, angels they are. Work's been fine, trying to get a pay rise though."

"Hmm is that why you're sleeping with your boss, to get a pay rise?" The detective said casually.

The driver slammed the brakes causing the two occupants of the taxi to go flying forward then to be stopped by their seatbelts, pulling them back towards the leather seats.

Ignoring the honks and complains around them, the driver turned around and looked at the detective, fear and worry in his eyes.

"Simple, you're wearing two different scents of women's perfume, you're trying to cover up yourself, hiding your guiltiness, and you stiffened when I asked you about your wife and job. Fit them together and the puzzles done."

"Please don't tell my wife, she's already trying to file a divorce, I beg of you please don't tell anyone." The cabbie begged; he was truly worried about his situation.

The detective just smirked at the pleading cabbie and dismissed him with a wave of a hand. "I won't tell anyone about that, now if you may, I need to get that appointment."

"Of course, thank you, thank you so much." And the cabbie sped off, zipping between cars.

As they reached their destination, the detective pulled out a couple of notes, but the cabbie shook his head.

"This ones on me if you keep our little secret,"

The detective just laughed and smirked again, and the cab sped off.

Turning around the detective saw the large pristine building in front of her, it was white and professional.

Walking inside, the detective walked inside the building and went to the receptionist, her bottle blonde hair in a tight bun on her head.

"I have an appointment with Hotaru Imai," said the detective.

The receptionist glanced at her and looked down at her phone, reading a message sent from her boss.

"Of course, she says your thirty seconds late."

"Tch, that god damn perfectionist, can't give me any slack can she?"

The receptionist laughed gently, "Im guessing you know your way there?"

The detective nodded and started walking up the stairs, halfway up the detective regretted not taking the elevator.

Once the detective reached the door, they knocked, waiting for permission to enter.

"You're a minute and forty six seconds late you owe me $10" The girl said, her violet eyes sparkling with the thought of money, her medium length hair in a high pony tail.

The detective fished out some money muttering about how she was lucky that the detective didn't have to pay her taxi fee.

"Take a seat and will get started." Said the therapist, reaching over getting her file and slipping the money she just received into it.

"I still don't why I'm doing this and what's in it for you?" the detective asked.

The therapist took her glasses off and looked straight at the detective.

"I thought that would be obvious, you are a genius remember. Well its simple, I get paid and as of why you're doing this. Well you did kill someone a month ago, isn't that right Mikan Sakura."


End file.
